Where The Heart Is
by Flower Powerer
Summary: You're always traveling, Luna. Don't you ever miss home? [PostDH OneShot]


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AN: Deathly Hallows spoilers? Are people still warning for those? Anyway, this was hard for me to write given JK's new info on the lives of George and Luna and how of course they don't marry each other. But we're still allowed to ship whatever we want, right? So here you go. Based on JK's info on Luna's career.

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Where The Heart Is

George Weasley stood on a mountain top somewhere in the Andes, looking down at the land below, wondering how the _hell_ he came to be here.

They were looking for a Winged Tijera Aprovechar - a South American bird known for cutting off the body parts of innocent mountaineers; significantly, the ears. Luna had been looking for a companion to accompany her to Bolivia while she searched for this rare and possibly, as George was beginning to suspect, entirely mythical creature. He had enthusiastically volunteered - he was, after all, a prime choice in companion seeing as he had only one ear to lose. So he had left the shop in the hands of Verity and went off with Luna, thinking that he might get a few laughs and a free trip to South America out of it all.

Now, as he stared down at the South American landscape, he very much regretted his rash decision.

Perhaps it had been naive to assume that a trip to a foreign country meant hotels and resorts, especially when that trip was taken with Loony Lovegood.

"They're more active at night," she had insisted, "if we stay in a hotel, we'll miss them."

So here they were, camping out in the mountains. The tent wasn't so bad after a few wizarding improvements, but George found himself spending very little time in it. Luna insisted that at least one of them stand watch at night; they switched guard every three hours.

It was currently George's watch.

He sighed as he gave a quick glance around his surroundings. He didn't know why he was even looking - he already knew he would not see a Winged Tijera Aprovechar. They hadn't seen one in the entire week they had spent here. And he highly doubted they would ever see one. It was cold up here in the mountains, and it was much too late at night to be standing outside in the open. Of course, this was the perfect climate for Winged Tijera Aprovechars, Luna said, but in George's opinion the only thing this climate was perfect for was catching a cold.

He sneezed, and suddenly he felt a slight wetness on his head. He looked up just in time to catch a raindrop in his eye. He moaned loudly. _Of course_ it would start raining.

Thunder clapped somewhere in the distance, and George let out a loud swear in frustration.

"You shouldn't say such words," said a dreamy voice from the tent.

George laughed bitterly and turned to face Luna. "What? Will a Winged Tijera Whatsitcalled come and chop off my tongue?"

Luna paused for a second, thinking. "I didn't think of it that way," she said finally, "Maybe that _would_ work."

George laughed again. "Oh, in that case--" and repeated his swear even louder.

A clap of thunder again, then nothing but the pitter-patter of raindrops on the ground.

"I guess not," Luna said, somewhat sadly.

Her genuine sadness at the absence of her mythical creature touched George, for a few seconds, before he realized it was pouring and he was standing in the middle of it.

"Hey, Luna, how about we call off the watch for tonight? It's raining like hell out here."

"Oh no!" Luna said, eyes brightening, "It's _perfect_ weather for an Aprovechar! We can't just--"

"Luna," He interrupted, "I'm catching pneumonia out here."

She stopped talking and looked him up and down. After a moment's examination, she nodded. "Yes, yes, you must consider your own health. Come on in."

He sighed, relieved and made a movement towards the tent, just as Luna stepped out.

"I'll take watch instead," she said.

George grabbed her shoulders as she walked past. "Are you kidding me? You'll get sicker faster than me out here! Get back inside!"

Halted in her steps, she looked up into his eyes. He saw disappointment lingering there, along with fear - maybe he had grabbed her a little too roughly? But after a few seconds of staring into his eyes, disappointment and fear melted away and she nodded. "Alright, we'll just stay another day to make up for it."

He despised the thought of spending another night in this God-forsaken mountain range, but nodded, leading Luna into the tent.

They sat down in front of the fireplace. George was tired, but he needed to dry off and warm up before he headed to bed. He summoned some hot chocolate from the kitchen, placing one mug in Luna's hands and one his own. He grabbed a blanket from the armchair and draped it around himself, then, after a second thought, took it off and threw it over Luna's shoulders. She had only been out in the rain for less than a minute, but she was thoroughly soaked.

She was so much smaller than him - it amazed him how small a person could be. She was so little, so...fragile. What was she doing - traveling around the world so much, in so many different climates? Certainly that was not good for her health. And yet, she didn't look sick at all; just...small.

She smiled at him, and he noticed he was staring. He felt himself blush a little and tried to laugh it off, but to his surprise it came out a bit nervous. He cleared his throat, then spoke to fill the silence. "Uh...this is the farthest I've ever been from home, you know?"

She gave him a weak little smile, then stared down at her mug.

She seemed detached - as if it were something she didn't really want to talk about. George stared, wondering what the matter was. Usually Luna had so much to share on every subject.

"You're always traveling, Luna - don't you ever miss home?" He questioned.

"Where is home, really?" She said, softly.

He was shocked by this response. "Er, um. Oterry St. Catchpole?" He suggested.

She was quiet still. It made George a little uncomfortable. He shifted nervously in his seat.

"Home," Luna finally responded, "Is where the heart is."

She had looked up from her mug now, but was staring strangely into the distance. A finger traced the edge of her mug absently.

"Ah," he said, pleased to get a Luna-like answer out of her. "And where is your heart, Luna?"

She turned quickly, looking kind of startled. George realized too late that this was a bit too personal of a question.

"Uh, I-I'm sorry!" He stammered.

She stared at him blankly for a bit, then smiled lightly. "My heart?" She asked. She turned her gaze back to the distance, "I'm still looking for it."

"I thought we were looking for a Winged Tijera Whatcha-bird?" He joked, relieved she wasn't upset at him.

She laughed. "That too. And maybe..." She paused here, then continued, "Maybe a little bit of myself too."

He stared at her, admiring this new side of Luna. Before she had been all crazy to him - sure, she had been known to say a few deep things on occasion, but this was something new. It was...interesting. He kind of felt like maybe she was...like him. Like her, he was pretty off-the-wall sometimes, mainly happy - but he had his serious moments too.

He understood her. She wasn't just traveling to search for her strange magical creatures; she was discovering herself at the same time. He just had to think of all the times he felt like packing up and being by himself after Fred's death...

"Have you found it yet, Luna?" He said, slightly dazed from his new revelations.

She turned to face him, locking eyes. It was an intense gaze - there was no disappointment or fear in her look now. Something else was there.

"Maybe," She said. Her eyes never left his.

He felt dizzy.

_Maybe another day here wouldn't be so bad._


End file.
